


let lips do what hands do

by vivamusmealesbia



Category: Romeo And Juliet - All Media Types, SHAKESPEARE William - Works
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-24 13:24:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13214670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vivamusmealesbia/pseuds/vivamusmealesbia
Summary: and it shows, in the space in between breaths, how little i know and how much the uproarious mass does, how i’m thinking of her, and she’s off in the dust, she’s off taming moonbeams. and that kind of enormity between breaths tends to put off women.except for one, apparently. because our gazes slid together at heartbreaking speed, and suddenly all the space in between my breaths was touched by her.





	let lips do what hands do

**Author's Note:**

> i've been thinking about romeo and juliet a lot, so I thought I'd try my hand at writing something about it. this is pretty much a modern au of the masquerade scene, written in a poetry-esque style. anyway, i know it's short, but enjoy! this is my first fan work so i'd appreciate comments/kudos if you enjoyed it! :)

i’m back in the growling city, for good—or for bad. i’ve yet to see. there’s grit and grime in my veins, grunge gnawing at my bones. the neon here seems almost medicinal. “congratulations! you’re not the only lonely sap swaying in smoke! come to a party." 

so that’s where i am—a party. it’s been a while. at least without her. but my friends told me to come. I can see said friends are now splashed in their respective archetypal corners, mercutio’s tongue dancing in the back of someone’s throat on the frankly horrendous suede couch, benvolio leaning against the wall, ever-peaceful lips adorned with a cigarette and a slight frown. 

my parents don’t know I’m here, and they know everything. and it shows, in the space in between breaths, how little i know and how much the uproarious mass does, how i’m thinking of her, and she’s off in the dust, she’s off taming moonbeams. and that kind of enormity in between breaths tends to put off women. 

except for one, apparently. because our gazes slid together at heartbreaking speed, and suddenly all the space in between my breaths was touched by her. and my existence leans towards the fire escape, because this is what we are: a fire. how naive i was for thinking there was an escape. with the noise and the dancing and our abysmal synapses--how could there be? 

it should be quieter outside. but not with her, roaring like a supernova in my ear. she’s wearing a cross necklace and in her eyes i see the the fence of the abandoned playground we’d hang out in on early releases in middle school. it’s so hard to not cry when there’s blood in your mouth. i want to touch her but this forsaken city has polluted every inch of me. i want to take a shower—i want to go home—i want to touch her. 

i can’t remember which one of us talks first. at some point i tell her i think touch should be the 8th deadly sin. with the light bouncing off steel in her eyes and a smirk brewing on her lips, she directs me to prayer, as if we drudge the same wavelength of late nights and catholic guilt. so i do—i say a quick prayer while my heart scampers off to confession. 

“oh then dear saint, let lips do what hands do; they pray,” i say, as if the line’s been written for me. and i kiss her. and we don’t speak after that, because that says everything. 

in the kiss she tells me her parents don’t know she’s here either. together we say, “they’d hate me if they knew.” and i slip my tongue through her lips like a supplicant banging on a the door of a church, begging for sanctuary. it is granted. 

and then someone hits fast forward, and my friend grabs my hand and I’m home, with a phone number scribbled on my hand and empty lips, and a body filled to the brim. my heart and my head are so full i fear they may sink into the ocean and burst from pressure on both sides. 

“hello? juliet—it’s me. i love you.”


End file.
